


Relax

by ShowMeAHero



Series: The Smithsonian [6]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Breakfast, Domestic, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Memories, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Prompt Fill, Recovering Memories, Tumblr Prompt, and nobody can handle a revelation quite like that, bucky remembers some things about the past over breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:36:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky remembers a detail of his past over breakfast, and nobody can handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relax

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this post](http://savingprivatehale.tumblr.com/post/92274753182/imagine-bucky-recovering-his-memories-and-one-day) by savingprivatehale on tumblr, which said:
> 
> "imagine bucky recovering his memories and one day, after a mission, they’re all in the stark tower having breakfast and all the avengers are around kind of minding their own business, tony is chatting with bruce about some science stuff, pepper is on the phone and clint is silently drinking his coffee while natasha reads the paper, thor is trying to find the channel where they were showing a documentary about kittens two minutes ago and steve is eating his eggs with sam and bucky is just there duckfacing his way through breakfast when he suddenly looks up at steve and asks “did you ever suck my dick? cos i remember my dick being sucked by you” and the next thing they hear is clint’s mug hitting the floor"
> 
> I can never resist a good one like this.

The mission had definitely not been an easy one. After destroying Dr. Doom and his Doom-Bots ( _again_ , and Steve was getting a little sick of it, not that he’d say anything), all they really wanted was to just chill out a little bit. They crashed once they got back to the Tower, and the next morning found them all having “breakfast” - ignoring the fact that it was around eleven, eleven-thirty, at this point - and finally getting to relax a little bit. Steve was on one side of the kitchen table that morning, Sam at the head, Bucky on Steve’s other side, the three of them eating eggs. Bucky was making faces at his breakfast, Sam was reading the comics and laughing, showing Steve a strip every now and then, and Steve was mostly silent, keeping an eye on Bucky.

Tony and Bruce were hunched over the kitchen table, their chairs shoved together on one side of the relatively long table. They had a plate of nearly-untouched Rava dosa - cooked by Bruce half an hour earlier - between them, and a whole mess of papers with schematics and blueprints on them around that. In the air above the table was another collection of digital projections of even more plans, and Tony was waving his hand through them, flicking his hand every now and then to pass to the next one. Bruce laughed once, and Tony muttered something about _adrenaline punches and idiot scientists who don’t-_ and Steve zoned out on them.

He turned his attention to where Pepper was leaning against the counter by the refrigerator, better dressed than any of them by a long shot, since she was wearing actual clothes and everyone else was in pajamas. She was talking quickly into the phone, her voice low for the most part, though it rose every now and then, in what sounded like frustration. She listened for another moment, taking a sip from her coffee mug (which was actually not hers, and was Bruce’s, lent to her since both of hers were in the dishwasher), before spitting, “That is _not_ how that works, I don’t-” and huffing when she got interrupted. Steve frowned sympathetically when she glanced his way, and she rolled her eyes and shrugged, in a _what can you do?_ kind of way. Steve inclined his head and shifted his attention again.

Clint was shoved into the corner of the sofa in the adjacent living room area (the whole area was very open and Steve could see Clint and Natasha and Thor absolutely easily), his head rolled back, resting against the back of the couch. He took pulls from his coffee every now and then (his was as full of sugar and cream as Pepper’s was just straight black and bitter), and Natasha was pressed up against him, her back to his chest. He let her have some of his coffee every now and then, and she gave him bites of her bagel that she kept in one hand, her other hand occupied flipping the pages of the paper that she had rested against her bent, pulled-up legs. She turned another page while Steve watched her, and got Clint’s attention, pointing out one story in particular. Clint laughed, and stole another bite of her bagel, and Natasha jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. He kissed the side of her head, and Steve averted his eyes respectfully.

Thor was on the opposite end of the couch, flipping through channel after channel on Tony’s television, frowning fiercely. His empty plate was set on the low coffee table in front of him, and the hand not holding his remote was wrapped around a literal flagon of coffee, with only a little milk and sugar in it. Steve had noticed his excitement earlier when he found a documentary about what looked like cats or kittens or puppies or something, but he accidentally changed the channel, and now was struggling to search through the thousands upon thousands of channels to find that one again. Steve didn’t blame him, on any count. He can’t ever find a channel, and it’s not that either of them was dumb, or struggling to adapt - even Clint sometimes cursed how difficult it was to find channels when there were so many. And, of course, Steve would want to watch something light-hearted and easy, too, and he knew how much Thor loved animals.

Steve’s attention was pulled back to his own table when Sam laughed and showed him another strip. Steve read the strip, and Bucky looked over his shoulder, huffed a laugh, and took another bite of his sausage, egg, and cheese omelette, made that morning by Steve. He made a face down at his plate, then took another bite, before glancing up at Steve, who was just taking his own bite. He frowned when Steve took his bite, and Steve slowly pulled his fork away and lowered it to the table. Bucky cocked his head at him, almost looking curious, if Steve didn’t know better about who he had become at this point. He wasn’t Bucky, but he wasn’t the Winter Soldier - he was a combination of the two, he had been ever since he recovered his memories, and Steve was adjusting. But it was still him - still his best friend - and Steve still loved him.

Bucky was, of course, still recovering memories, and Steve was getting used to seeing that look on his face, the look he had on his face right then, that said Bucky was remembering something new from his past ( _their past_ ) and wanted to ask Steve about it. Steve inclined his head, taking another bite of his scrambled eggs, and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, as though that would make the memory clearer for him.

“Did you ever suck my dick?” Bucky asked seriously, and Steve choked on his eggs. “‘Cause I remember my dick being sucked by you. Distinctly.”

Steve stared at Bucky, open-mouthed. Tony and Bruce were both looking up at them, and Sam was visibly trying not to laugh. Steve jumped when the silence was shattered by Clint’s mug hitting the floor, and suddenly Sam was in stitches, nearly falling out of his seat, and Tony was right there with him. Bruce was grinning at the both of them (one of the widest smiles on the man that Steve had ever seen, bless him), and Nat had her face buried in the newspaper. Clint was staring up at the ceiling, laughing so hard he had essentially stopped breathing, his mug in pieces on the floor. Thor was laughing, too, but his booming laugh was a little dimmer, trying to be polite.

“Uhm,” Steve began eloquently, before shaking his head and clearing his throat. “Uhm. Yes. Yes, I did, and I-”

“I remember,” Bucky interrupted, his brow furrowing. “I remember… More than once.”

“Yup,” Steve confirmed, looking between Bucky and his eggs rather than at anybody else. He heard Pepper hang up her phone, and he felt his face go a little red. “Yes, we did it more than once, Buck.”

“I liked it,” Bucky continued. “I loved it.” He frowned, pushing back his chair, and Clint rolled over the back of the sofa with his laughter. “I loved you.”

Sam’s laughter came up short, and he stopped. Tony stopped, as well, after Bruce (still smiling a little bit) nudged him, and Clint stood up. Natasha was watching curiously over the top of her paper.

“Steve, I’m sorry,” Bucky apologized, and he stood. Steve stood, as well, his chair screeching back, and he grabbed Bucky, kissing him as deeply as they used to, but the first time in a front of people, and he forgot about them in a second, anyways. He heard a camera shutter what he thought was only a second later, but was probably later than that, when he thought about it. Clint was way closer, his phone next to their faces.

“This is going on my Instagram,” Clint declared. Bucky grinned.

“I remember a lot of other things, too,” Bucky informed him. “Like this one time, we ran out of money for heat, so we-”

“Don’t,” Steve interrupted urgently, and Tony choked on a piece of Rava dosa.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
